Unholy
by Helen Cly
Summary: Isabel is haunted by her darker instincts.


**Title:** Unholy   
**Author:** Sobia Helen  
**Disclaimer:** If I owned it, would Isabel have ever gotten in touch with her 'maternal and nurturing side'? The song Unholy is by KISS. Lyrics are in pink.  
**Category:** Isabel. UC-ish.   
**Rating:** R. This is dark and disturbing. Consider yourself warned.   
**Distribution:** Want. Take. Have. Just, ask first: [AphroditeH@aol.com][1]  
**Summary: ** Isabel is haunted by her darker instincts.   
**Dedications:** To Lia and Jess for listening to all my crazy, twisted ideas in the middle of the night, and for helping me with them. To Jenny for giving me 101 summaries for this fic until I finally liked one. And to Jenn.  
**Note:** This is Isabel POV.   


* * *

_I am the incubus   
i lay the egg in you   
The worm that burrows   
Through your brain  
_

~*~

  
I hear voices. Yeah, I know how that sounds. But it's true. I have heard them since before I could talk or even understand them. They are like thoughts in my head. Except that they are not mine. The thoughtsthey come from somewhere else. They belong to a stranger.   
  
I am not crazy, though. I am possessed.   
  
"Reincarnated," Tess would say. But it's a lie. All of it, made up to make us willingly submit to these things that possess us. Made up to make us believe that we have lived a life before this one. On another world.   
  
It's all a lie. I haven't lived any life before. It had been *her* life. *She* lived it. And she is living it again, through me.   
  
Vilandra. That's who I was supposed to have beenin another life. She lives inside me now, but I am not she. I know her feelings, her deepest thoughts, her hatred for all things human, her secret desires, her past betrayalsyet, she is a stranger to me. She is not I.   
  
~*~  
  
I wake up screaming from a nightmare. Vilandra was there. It is *her* past that haunts me, *her* dreams that torment me. My eyes begin to moisten as I feel the pain of her last moments on her home planet. When I dreamI almost believe that I *am* Vilandra.   
  
But just as I start to believe the lies, I become aware of a sharp, burning sensation in my stomach.   
  
I throw off the covers and gasp. My eyes widen in horror and I realize just how much different she is from me. I would never do something so cruel to anyone.   
  
There is fresh blood on my pajama top where my stomach is. Quickly, I slide out of the bed, and turn on the lights, my hands shaking.   
  
I hastily take off my top and walk to the dressing table. Fresh tears come to my eyes as I behold my reflection in the mirror. On my stomach, right above my bellybutton is a symbol from the dreamsit's been carved in to my flesh. I recognize it as the royal seal. I notice that it's still bleeding, and reach for the Kleenex on the dressing table. I wipe away the blood gently, gasping in pain every now and then. I sob, seeing that it's deep enough to leave a scar. My sobs become more prominent as I try in vain to heal my wound, tears streaming down my face. As I sob, I can hear the sound of her musical laughter ring out in my head.   
  
When I sleep, she has complete control over my body, and she uses it to her advantage.   
  
She did this to me. As much to prove who is in charge as to remind me who I am supposed to be.   
  
But I am not Vilandra. I am Isabel, and I refuse to be Vilandra; to give in to her.  
  
This is not the first time it has happened. But the cuts, the burnsI have always been able to heal them before. But now she denies me the powers that come with being her.   
  
After all, if not for her, I wouldn't have any powers. It's her way of punishing me.   
  
This is how she makes me regret not listening to her voice. For not being who she wants me to be. For being Isabel, for being just me.   
  
Sometimesshe even tricks me into thinking that her thoughts are mine. To get me to do what *she* wants. That is even worse.   
  
Sometimes, I don't know who I am. Sometimes, I am ready to give in to her. To let her have this body that she so badly wants, to let her have my life.   
  
~*~  
  
There is a slight knock on my door and before I can even register the sound, Max opens the door and comes in.  
  
"I heard you" he stops in the middle of the sentence, noticing my state of undress. I can tell that he is embarrassed, but his concern wins over any feelings of discomfort.   
  
"What happened?" he asks calmly in that Max-likeway, keeping his eyes on the gash on my abdomen. He closes the door.  
  
I take my blood soaked hand away from belly, and I look down at the cut, noticing that fresh blood has made it hard for Max to tell that it's the royal seal. I sigh in relief and look up at him. "II cut myself." I say, like it's not that big of a deal.  
  
Max sits down on my bed and motions for me to come sit by him. I relax, realizing that Max is not planning to leave me anytime soon. I don't want to be alone with her. I make my way towards the bed and sit by him. I lean back on my arms, giving him access to the injury.  
  
"How did you cut it?" he asks suspiciously as he places his hand on the cut.   
  
I shrug slightly, knowing that Max will not press me for an answer.   
  
Max. That's another reason that I know I am not Vilandra. She sees Max as her brother because she believes that he *is* Zan. But he is not *my* brother.   
  
Oh, sure, there is a connection between Max and I. But it has nothing to do with blood. What I feel for Max goes deeper than words can say, and it's definitely not anything one should feel for a brother. And I know that he feels the same way towards me to some extent. He has never told me that, he never has to tell me anything. I just know. We have that connection.   
  
She tells me that it's wrong to love Max like I do. She tells me that I am like her, that I could not control my lust. And that I only want the man in power. She says that I am even worse than her in that aspect, because I don't care if that man is my brother.   
  
Mostly, I just tune her out, but sometimes, I believe her. I believe that I am capable of betraying Max, of being as evil as she is. But not because *I* am like that, but because *she* is inside me.  
  
I have been in love with Max for as long as I can remember. Back then, there was no Vilandra to lie to me, to tell me that it was wrong. She was always there, her voice in my head, guiding me. But she stayed in the back. It was only after I found out about my*her* past that she became more and more dominant until I was unable to tell where she ended and I began.   
  
Max has healed me, I realize. The physical pain is gone, but the fear of what she will do next is still with me. I notice that Max has not taken his hand off of me. His fingers begin to trace invisible patterns on my stomach, and I close my eyes, giving in to the sensation. I do not say anything, lest the words break the spell.   
  
Max's other hand finds it's way to my face, he wipes off a lingering tear from my eye, and holds my chin, his thumb tracing the outline of my lips.   
  
Vilandra warns me not to do this, her voice demanding that I stop Max. For the first time, I hear the sound of an emotion in her voice. Fear. She is afraid.  
  
Her warnings only serve to make me more defiant. It's nice to have *her* on the edge for once.   
  
Max's hand travels down my stomach but it stops at the waistband; he seems to hesitate.   
  
I quickly wrap my arms around his neck and bring his mouth down on mine, trying to seize this moment before Max changes his mind.  
  
As my lips meet Max's, I feel Vilandra become withdrawn, she is no longer telling me to stop. It's as if she can't bear to go with this. I smile to myself. For once, it's her who is tuning *me* out.   
  
For a moment, I wonder how she'll react to this. For a moment, I feel afraid of her. But soon, that and any other thoughts are drawn away from my mind as I give Max my complete attention.   
  
I don't feel Vilandra for the rest of the night.  
  
~*~  
  
The next day, I wake up late. There were no nightmares, no Vilandra. I smile, opening my eyes. For the first time in months, I feel like I could stop Vilandra before she completely possesses me. I feel like I could be Isabel again, without having to constantly fight for my identity.   
  
I see Max standing by the window. He turns around as I sit up. My smile fades as I see the expression on his face. I feel Vilandra stir within me, and I shudder slightly, already anticipating the punishment I'll get for this act of defiance.   
  
"Isabel," Max begins, walking towards the bed. "I'm not sure that last night was such a good idea. It wasn't right."  
  
Vilandra repeats those words in my head, telling me how wrong it was.   
  
I don't know what to say. I open my mouth, but then close it again. I take a deep breath, and begin again, "But we aren't" I start only to be cut off by Max.  
  
"Yeah, I know that." He says, sitting down on the bed. "I don't regret what happened last night, Isabel. I wanted it to happen. I love you, you know that."  
  
I stay quite, and look at him expectantly, silently urging him to go on.  
  
"But, I think you might regret it." He continues. "You are not yourself."   
  
I frown, "What do you mean?"  
  
Max pulls out a knife from inside the bedside table. The tip of the knife is blackened as if it has been burned. And there is dried blood on it. My blood. My eyes moisten as I realize that it's the knife Vilandra used on me last night.  
  
"The cut last nightit wasn't accidental, was it?" Max asks, not waiting for an answer, he goes on, "Isabel, why did you do it?"  
  
Vilandra's laughter rings out in my head, and I fight to hold back tears. "I didn't." I say. "It's her. She did this" I trail off seeing the expression on Max's face.   
  
If anyone was to understand my struggle, it was supposed to be Max. But then it dawns on me. Max doesn't understand it. None of them do.  
  
Tess so completely accepts her alien Destiny that she has no idea that she and Ava are two different people. That she is not, nor ever was Ava. Zan and Rath are willing to coexist with Max and Michael.  
  
But Vilandra, she is different. She is not the one to share. She wants complete control. She wants me to give in to her completely, to passively watch while *she* lives *my* life.   
  
Max puts away the knife, and takes my hands in his. "We'll get through this, Isabel. Together. It'll be alright." He hugs me and I cling to him, knowing that it wouldn't ever be all right. I know that no one would ever understand my entrapmentnot Tess, not Michael, not even Max.   
  
I don't know how long we stay that way, but eventually, Max leaves, after assuring me once again that it'll be alright.   
  
I wanted him to stay. I wanted to hold his hand and tell him that I need him. To be free of her. To be me. But I didn't, because he wouldn't understand. So I silently watched him walk out the door.  
  
Now it's just us. Vilandra and I. She is talking to me, telling me how wrong I was to defy her. I start shaking, not wanting to know what she plans to do to me. I tune her out, and weigh my options.   
  
I am tired of fighting, but if I give in, then she wins. She'll get my body, and she will live her life once again through me. My eyes fall on the knife that Max left on the bedside table.   
  
I pick it up, and ran my left index finger along the sharp edge of it. A thin line of bright red blood appears on it. I hold the knife up and quickly make three horizontal cuts on my right wrist, before I could hesitate, before my mind have second thoughts, before *she* stops me. If I can't have this body, then neither will she.   
  
I gasp in pain, and once again, tears invade my eyes, and start flooding down my face. The pain is unbearable, but it'll be over soon.   
  
I shift the knife to my left hand, and proceed to make identical cuts on my right wrist. I make one cut, and before I could start on the second, the knife slips from my left hand. There is blood all over the sheets. I start feeling dizzy, the coppery smell of the blood getting to my head. Or maybe it's because I'm losing my energy. I lie down slowly; the pain is not so bad anymore. My wrists feel numb, blood still trickling down them. There is so much blood.   
  
I close my eyes, and I can no longer feel Vilandra. She is gone. Now I can rest in peace.   
  
~Epilogue~  
  
Vilandra waits in the darkest corner of Isabel's mind. She waits for Isabel to die. To give up.   
  
When she feels that Isabel is no longer in her body, she comes out. No longer withdrawn, she completely takes over it. She feels free, not having to share the body with a human anymore. It belongs to her alone now.   
  
She opens her eyes and sits up, taking in the scene. The girl has made such a mess. Vilandra holds her right palm over her left wrist and vice versa, healing the injuries Isabel inflicted upon herself. To be free of Vilandra.  
  
Vilandra laughs at Isabel's foolishness. She slides out of the bed and takes in the room. She'll have to clean it later. Her eyes wonder over to Isabel's closet; a new wardrobe was definitely in order.   
  
She walks over to the dressing table, and reaches out a hand to touch her reflection gently. Not as beautiful as her previous body, but it'll have to do. She runs a hand through her hair and changes the color from blonde to an auburn.   
  
"Much better," she smiles, satisfied. This is going to be a lot of fun  
  
_I lay you down to sleep   
Your soul to keep   
Better cross your heart before you die   
And now you know   
Know that you are mine   
  
That's why you're feeling so   
  
Unholy, Unholy, Unholy - Unholy!! _  
  


*~Done!~*

[Let me know what you thought...][2]

   [1]: mailto:AphroditeH@aol.com
   [2]: mailto:aphroditeh@aol.com



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